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My Africa

In Africa the only recognisable diseases are ***/AIDS, BP, cancer, cholera and flue, but no one recognises a disease like depression. Its like your mind haunts you, as much as you try to run in those bushes looking for the nearest light it stalks your footsteps like a hyena following the trail of blood. Its like a huge web that can not be untangled, you feel like your mind is drowning you and the only thing you can see is it smiling and hear it laugh, as you try to gasp for air.

In Africa no one recognises this mental illness but it has let our brothers and sisters hang from a tree, lie lifeless in a pool of blood streaming from their wrists, it has let them choke on pills 1,2,3,4, they lost count now the bottle lies empty and the soul staring at an empty body. Who knew depression could be a serial killer and even justice has failed to adhere to its oath to safeguard and protect its people. In our african culture we laugh and say drink a lot of water it will cure that head. Growing up bringing more and more burdens to the poor soul. I also once thought it was a joke until the pharmacists told me “that would be 16 dollars sir”.

Until you are a victim you will never appreciate how dangerous this creature is and we let it roam freely, feed it, drink with it, party with it and dine with it only to tuck it in at night. Its time my Africa recognises this creature. It haunts not by age, not by intelligence, not by body size and not by wealth. It feeds on the weak mind. “Im on anti depressants” i said, “ha ha ha at such a young age kuzviitisa unenhamo dzipi iwe usina mhuri (in english what problem do you have when you don’t have a family)” they said.

Continue to laugh my Africa, who will be left to bury you. Despite the size a problem is a problem my Africa; until you understand that depression will soon be the number one killer, but it would be too late, when they release the statistics we will be already carrying flowers to our brothers and sisters graves reminiscing “he/she would be turning 25 today”.

Wake up my Africa there’s a killer on the loose.

Yours The Beard King.
Jul 2018 · 100
Time to go
I look up in the sky i remonace i dont remember the last time it was blue
The thoughts sticks to my mind it annoys me like flue
I try sneeze and blow it out its stuck on me like glue
I tell my friends they laugh and they ask what can we ever do?
I stand there no smile on my face i feel like im a fool.
I even ask myself but i aint got no clue.
I remember the beauty of the sky and how it used to be blue.
Then i remember im stuck in a room
with no where to go
but i calm my heart and remind myself tomorrow its my last day all my face can do is to glow.
Jul 2018 · 120
Dear
I'm trying to forget it's so hard and painful that I admit. It's like trying to remember a dream I feel so green. I can't get rid of this feeling wheres the healer I need emotional healing.
I guess I have to start afresh and go back to the beginning and get the meaning of this. I'm like a man stuck at sea trying to forget what he is about to see my soul itches like it got fleas. Forget is defined as to cease remembering unintentionaly lose memory. No matter how hard I try I guess the memory creeps  in.
I wish I was an amnesiac to an extent I could forget myself. I try to forget but I can't it haunts me day and night dreamland is the only place I can design and alter my own world. Dear designer give me an opportunity to be the architecture
Jul 2018 · 92
Mirror
Standing there a man with a frozen heart the cold blood rushing through his veins his heart pumping slowly breathing heavily thoughts battling in his mind, full of fear but feeling less he stares at the mirror soft background music playing he takes a step forward pauses for a minute…………a voice cuts through the air like a jagged saw “never let me go”. He digs deep into his past and a painful memory appears, he then sits down in front of the mirror and he narrates his story.
he tells his story
The world had truly swallowed a bull frog. I sat on my mums lap as i leaned on her chest feelings her heart pump slower and slower .i could feel life violently stabbing her soul I could feel her pain her tears as she broke the news that poverty has took us hostage. She explained that she can nolonger afford to pay my educational fees and to put the food on the table. With a sweet voice I asked her “where is Dad” she took a deep breathe searching for the right answer and I will never forget what she whispered into my ear “have faith my boy”.
The sun disappeared under the shadow of the clouds. I felt hope living me , the wind roughly brushed against my skin.as young as I was a question came into mind will I see tomorrow? what will I be tomorrow ?is there a tomorrow? I sat there gazing at the trees as I knew I am now a man I have to work to put food on the table. Was life fair to rob me of my childhood I will never live to tell the story of the palm leaves of my childhood I will grow up without memories, but scars to remind of this day, the day life took away my smile.
I had no shoulder to cry to were where you mirror, were where you when I was alone, when life robbed me.
he takes a very deep breathe shouting at the mirror he then paused for a moment then softly he says “it’s just a reflection” he stands up and walks away as he is about to live the room he looks down whispers “never let me go” as he shuts the door behind him.
Jun 2018 · 93
Smoke in the mountains
Eyes over the horizon, the pictures start to be blurry. A colourful world turns into black and white. Stolen of its beauty, the man stands there in doubt as his mind starts to wonder about. All he can do is to just watch the flame of his heart go out.

He sits there as his heart and mind fight, it has turned into a ****** fight. To the world it’s a delight, the man with nothing he could do, he watched the dimming of his light. His inner soul crying out, so that a passer by could hear his plight.

Smoke thunders through the mountain, trying to show the world a sign, to show what his actions have turned into. A horrible monster that had devoured him. It was all because of his pride. He watched the world turn its back on him. All was left was the smoke in the mountain.

— The End —